


How To Royally Fuck Up The Avengers Tower

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: The Avengers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Cap, it's Tony. Stark. Iron Man. Uh, yeah- I was looking over the designs for your part in the Avengers Tower, and I am pretty sure Fury will castrate me if I put in some stripper poles, so I was wondering if you could swing by and see if everything is, uh. Dandy. Did people say 'dandy' in the 40s? I have no idea. Ah, anyway, drop by anytime. Yep. Bye."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> also spoilers for 'Buffy,' 'Firefly' and 'Serenity' at some point during the fic- someone pointed it out to me, ARGH I'm sorry :/

_Spoilers for the movie. Don't read if you haven't seen it._

Okay, if we're being honest here: Steve actually likes Tony, despite what multiple tabloids think.

Respects him, even- it's kind of hard not to, after seeing him force a nuclear bomb into a different dimension with him wrapped around it as the portal closed behind him.

I mean, yeah, they had both pissed each other off with the whole, uh. Shouting thing.

But in Steve's defence, Tony had been a total jerk to everyone. 

And yes, Steve might have had to make himself think 'jerk' instead of something else.

But yeah, Steve likes Tony, bordering on grudging respect, but he doesn't think that Tony likes him that much, so he's surprised when he gets back from a run and his phone- cellular phone- _cell phone,_ damnit- the screen of it is flashing: 

_One missed call from: Tony Stark._

"Uh," Steve says, looking at the tiny, light-up buttons that barely fit his fingers. 

He knows how to use it- he's always been a fast learner, even before the serum, but he just thinks that most technology they have nowadays is downright unnecessary.

Come on, an _automatic egg-slicer?_ Couldn't they just cut it by hand? Are people in this century really this lazy? 

And oh, god, _Jersey Shore._ Steve had spent the first three weeks thinking that Snooki had an unfortunate skin cancer.

The screen lights up again: Press 2 to hear voicemail.

Steve quickly stabs '2' and holds it to his ear.

_Beeeep._

_Voicemail in three- two-_

"Hey, Cap, it's Tony. Stark. Iron Man. Uh, yeah- I was looking over the designs for your floor in the Avengers Tower, and I am pretty sure Fury will castrate me if I put in some stripper poles, so I was wondering if you could swing by and see if everything is, uh. Dandy. Did people say 'dandy' in the 40s? I have no idea. Ah, anyway, drop by anytime. Yep. Bye."

_Beeeep._

_End of voicemail. Would you like t-_

Steve closes the phone, staring at it with a bemused expression.

Well.

Huh.

-

Tony drums his fingers on his knee to the tune of AC/DC shrieking the chorus to 'Shoot To Thrill,' glancing down at the schematics of the fabric he's attempting to make.

"Dummy, I swear to god, if you drop another-"

"Tony," Bruce says as he walks into the lab. "Kindly turn that crap down."

"AC/DC," Tony declares, turning away from Dummy, "is the work of the gods. And by that, I don't mean Thor. To turn it down would mean to blaspheme-"

"It kind of pisses me off," Bruce says.

Tony grins. "Jarvis-"

"Shall I switch to the bongo drums, sir?" Jarvis's dry sarcasm bounces off the walls.

Tony waves his hand. "Nah, just turn it off."

They do this a lot- either Tony switches the loud music off when Bruce comes in, or they banter for a while before Tony caves.

Bruce polishes his glasses on his shirt before shoving them on. "Where's Clint and Tash?"

"SHIELD business," Tony answers. "AKA, strangling men with their thighs. Emphasis on Clint doing it. They'll be back tomorrow."

"Uh-huh," Bruce says. "Hey, did Natasha s-" he pauses. "What on earth are you making?"

"Pants," Tony says, flicking his wrist so the hologram flips itself.

Bruce stares blankly.

Tony arches an eyebrow. "It'd be nice if you didn't flash the entirety of Fox News every time you hulk out."

Bruce blinks owlishly. "Oh. Yes. Yes, I- that would be good."

Tony circles his index finger in the middle of the hologram. "Damn straight. It's incredibly awkward fighting off aliens while trying the fact that there's a green dick in front of me that's the size of my forearm."

"I despise you," Bruce smiles, walking towards his part of the lab.

"Likewise," Tony says. "And fucking Christ, this is harder than it looks. Do you know how big your thighs get when you hulk out?"

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I'm not _not_ saying it."

"Y-"

"Sir," Jarvis's voice cuts Bruce off. "There's a Captain Rogers at the door."

Tony looks up. "Oh, yeah, I called him, didn't I."

He pulls up the skeleton of Steve's room. "Let him in, I'll be up in a second."

"Of course, sir."

-

A few minutes later, Tony climbs the stairs, rubbing a rag to get rid of the tar behind his right ear. Instead, it smudges it across his cheek.

Tony sighs.

Good enough.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Steve is standing near the couch, looking around at the city- there's only half a wall, due to the explosions, etc, so there's quite a view.

"Hey, Cap," Tony half-salutes. "How goes it?"

Steve frowns. "I- what?"

"It's a thing," Tony says. "It's like saying, 'how are y-' uh, doesn't matter." He clears his throat. "How's your week been?

"Well," Steve says, "Six days ago, I joined a group of superheroes and helped save the world from aliens from another dimension. Then I slept for 36 hours. Then you called me a few hours ago, and, uh, here we are."

Tony's mouth twitches. "Sounds exhilarating. So, no stripper poles, I'm guessing?"

Steve's cheeks colour slightly, and Tony grins. "Joking, joking. I missed that blush, though. No-one else does it like you."

Steve's blush deepens. "I- thank you?"

"Yeah, I don't know why I said that." Tony scrubs at the back of his head. "Uh, you want to see the ruins of what is eventually going to be your room?"

"Sure," Steve says. "Where is it?"

Tony holds up his arms. "This."

Steve looks around- there's a breeze, due to there being half a wall, and there's charred pieces of rubble all over the floor.

"It's a work in progress," Tony shrugs. "What do you think?"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "I think it's just _dandy."_

Tony looks surprised for a second before he barks out a laugh. "You- _did_ they say that in the 40s?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Usually dames, but yeah."

"Mmm," Tony nods. "Dames. Gotta love 'em."

Steve sighs. _"Women,_ then."

Tony's mouth twitches upwards again. "I see you're adapting, Cap."

"Steve."

Tony gets that pleased, surprised look again, before he tones it down again. "Steve. Hey, speaking of, can I see your shield?"

Steve flaps his mouth open and shut. "That has- that has nothing to do with anything that we just talked about."

"Yeah, well, I thought I would be able to shove it in sooner, but the opportunity never came up, so. Pretty please?" Tony flashes a grin.

"Uh. Why?" Steve's hand curls instinctively around the shield's non-existent straps, thinking of the metal ghosting over his knuckles.

"Because it's awesome," Tony says. "Scientifically, it makes me want to fanboy. I didn't want to mention it before, because there was the whole shouting thing, which, to be fair, was 100% your fault-"

Steve opens his mouth to retort, but he catches Tony's expression: he's joking. As in, good-naturedly. As in, Tony was looking at him through his eyelashes, and he's kind of sweaty, and his stubble makes Steve want to drag his mouth across it- wait, what?

"-and I thought you were kind of a dick. No offence."

"None taken," Steve smirks, caught off-guard, and then tries to stop. "I- yeah, I guess you could have a look at it."

There's the infamous, debauching, dazzling, bona-fide Tony Stark grin again. "Cool. I promise to be gentle. Where the hell are you staying, anyway?" 

"SHIELD," Steve says, and when Tony leans his head forward, like, _details, you moron,_ Steve says, "They have apartments for agents and the like. Coulson showed-"

It burns in his throat, and he stops. Judging by Tony's expression, he notices, and it's burning him, too.

But Tony recovers quickly, quicker than Steve- a lifetime of practice helped- and smiles feebly. "He was, ah."

"He was," Steve agrees, stuck between _Captain America,_ arms crossed, steady gaze, standing straight, and _Steve Rogers,_ soft smile, nervous flutter of his hands, 30-pound-man in a six-foot-brick-wall-could-shatter-a-skull-with-his-fist body.

Tony bats his hands together, twists his thumbs awkwardly.

He swallows, and Steve watches his adam's apple rake up and down his throat. "Well, this was. Uh."

"Dandy," Steve says, and Tony catches his eye.

They both crack up at the same time, laughing from the gut, half bent over, laughing until Tony is leaning against the doorframe.

"You," Tony chokes, trying to swallow his laughter. "You're not what I expected."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Steve grins, and Tony looks slightly shellshocked.

"Yeah. Yeah, uh-" Tony takes a step forward, hands in his pockets, looking younger than he is. He still looks like Tony Stark from page six: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and it _suits_ him, but Steve likes it a bit more now.

Tony says, "You should come by again sometime."

Steve tilts his head, a sudden rush of _something_ running through him. "I will."

There's that smile again: uninhibited, still Tony-Stark-from-page-six but so much _looser,_ happier, even, and it makes Steve smile back just from looking at it.

"Well, until next time, Ca- Steve," Tony catches himself just in time. "Don't let those SHIELD agents walk over you. Hell, if they get mouthy, just shoot them."

A week ago, a comment like that from Tony would have at the least exasperated him. Right now, it just amuses him. "Shoot them?"

Tony bumps his eyebrows up and down. "Politely."

Steve huffs out a laugh, and Tony slaps a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, my god. You didn't get that reference. Of course you didn't get that reference. Oh, god, you poor bastard, they haven't even made you watch _Firefly_ yet."

At this point, Steve is kind of getting used to the rapid changes in direction while talking to Tony, so he just goes along with it: "Firefly?"

"Firefly," Tony nods. 

"What's that?"

Tony is flapping his hands. "The greatest show to ever grace the- it got cancelled, and I was _really_ pissed, I tried to fund the next season- fuck, seriously, they haven't told you about it? They should have put it in the pamphlet." 

"They didn't give me a pamphlet. They gave me files of-"

"Yeah, yeah, but _fuck,_ Steve, you missed out on so many good shows! Did they even tell you who Michael Jackson was?"

Steve looks down at him. "From what I've gathered, he was some kind of mutant who could change skin colour."

Tony claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. "Y- okay, that's the basic gist of it," Tony chokes finally. "Oh, god, this is gold. Follow me."

Steve blinks, but obeys, trailing behind Tony as he leads him down a hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"We," Tony says, "Are going to catch you up on 70 years of pop culture. Starting with Firefly. And Serenity. They're pretty much the same thing- Jarvis," he yells to the ceiling, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin when a voice says, "Yes, sir?"

Tony, apparently used to it, says, "Tell Bruce we're having a Firefly marathon. Again." He turns to Steve, now walking backwards. "That's my AI. Artificial Intelligence," he adds when Steve looks confused. "Computer program. I made him. Because I'm awesome. Jarvis, also tell him that Steve's joining us."

"A most sensible idea, sir," the voice says. "Considering both you and Mr. Banner have a meeting at 7 A.M. tomorrow."

Steve smiles. Leave it to Tony to make an AI that would be sarcastic to him. 

Tony waves his hand. "We'll reschedule, this is more important, he hasn't seen Summer Glau in action yet."

"Priorities in order, as always, sir."

Steve looks up. "Why is he British?"

"Everyone _asks_ that," Tony sighs. "It's a thing. There are a lot of things, I'll tell you later. Come on, I'll show you how to work a DVD player before I introduce you to the wonders of Joss Whedon."

-

It was illegal in the 40s, Steve just wants that to be on the record.

As in, illegal. As in, if you were gay, _you went to jail,_ do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. 

Actually, it was kind of ignored- no-one really talked about it, and when they did, they joked about it and some men laughed along with fear in their voices.

There were quite a few people who were okay with it, but if they were smart, they kept it under wraps.

Most queers- _gay people_ , Steve keeps reminding himself, and calling black people 'niggers' is apparently really, _really_ rude in 2012- managed to hide it, and most of them denied it until absolutely necessary. Heck, most of them got unhappily married and had children. 

Steve had never had a problem with it- he had been puzzled at age four, when he had heard his mother whispering to her friend about their neighbour, who had been arrested because he had been caught kissing a man.

When he had asked why, his mother had given him one of those weathered smiles, bent down, and told him that some people were scared of things they didn't understand.

But, hey, it was the 40s: things were how they were, and Steve couldn't change that, not when he was just a kid from Brooklyn, and not when he was The Star Spangled Man- he'd probably have a better chance as the kid, actually.

And the 40s was only three weeks ago, for him- 70 years later he thought people would have gotten over it, but to no avail. Most states haven't even legalized gay marriage at this point, and, to be honest, Steve's kind of disappointed, but then again, he had been kind of expecting it.

So he's sitting on the couch in the 21st century, with Peggy dead from old age and Bucky just _dead,_ and the TV screen he's staring at is bigger than the movie screens he had seen at any theatre in the 40s. 

Firefly's a good show, which Steve didn't expect, but he's still stuck on _colour,_ holy jesus, and the special effects, although apparently sub-par in this century, make Steve gape.

Bruce is leaning against the edge of the couch with crossed legs, getting up every hour or so to get refills of popcorn, and laughing quietly at the right times.

Tony is sitting on the floor, sprawled on the carpet, one arm hooked over the arm of the couch close to Steve. His left hand is resting absent-mindedly on Steve's thigh like a brand. 

Mal says something onscreen, and Tony laughs, and Steve watches his head tip back, the sides of his eyes crinkling, and thinks:

_christ, he's gorgeous._

Which is quickly followed by:

_aw, shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every morning, Steve starts thinking about how cute Tony's hair looks when it's ruffled like that- then he catches himself, thinks don't, it's illegal, and then remembers that it's not, and starts smiling to himself, because he's _allowed_ now.

The funeral is on a Thursday.

It's kind of overcast- there's sun in the distance, if you look to the far left, but other than that, the sky is just a dull grey.

More people turn up than Tony had expected- not just agents, but civilians, huddling around the grave, most of whom Tony doesn't recognize.

"Darcy Lewis," a dark-haired girl nods at him. "Coulson and I were taser buddies."

Tony blinks. "Ah," he says, and then mentally hits himself over the head-  _you're Tony Stark, act like i_ t- "You must be lethal."

Darcy shrugs. "I try. I tazed Thor once."

Tony barks out a laugh, and then stops himself, because  _hello, funeral_.

"Oh, you're  _that_  Darcy. Nice one. So, were you guys like a club, with the tasers? The Taser Crew? The Taserettes?"

Darcy shakes her head. "Nah, he just taught me how to inflict the most damage. He might have looked mild, but I swear to god, he was one crazy motherfucker."

Tony smiles. "I don't doubt that."

Darcy zips up her jacket a bit more, huddling down into it. "You're shorter in person, you know."

Tony smirks. "You have smaller boobs than I thought you would."

"Touché. So, did you know him well?"

Tony glances at the headstone:

PHIL COULSON, A G-

The rest of it is obscured by a man standing in front of it.

Tony remembers saying to Pepper, _"Ah, his first name is 'Agent.'"_

"Nah, not really," Tony says. "But he was a good guy."

Darcy nods. "Damn straight. Hey, have you seen a petite brunette anywhere? A specific one, I didn't just wake up this morning with a craving-"

Tony snickers and Darcy half-leaps into the air. "Tony Stark watches Doctor Who! Fuck, can you  _get_  any more awesome?"

"I try," Tony says. "And since you're Darcy, that would make the petite brunette Jane Foster, right? I've met her a few times. Didn't get a good look, seeing as she was naked and wrapped around Thor, but-"

"Ugh, those two just can't keep it in their pants," Darcy wrinkles her nose. "They asked me to go on a condom run yesterday. Y'know, like a beer run, but with- yeah. Anyway, I should probably go and find her before she bursts into hysterics; she always cries at funerals."

She takes a step before stopping and folding her arms. "Doesn't matter, found her. In Thor's freakishly huge arms. As usual."

Tony says, "Not harbouring any grudges, I see."

Darcy shrugs again. "I roll with the punches. And if a punch is that my best friend has way too much sex with a god, then okeydokey. Hey, is that Captain America?"

Tony glances over his shoulder to where Steve is rapidly approaching with a solemn expression.

"That it is. Hey, Cap." He half-slaps-half-pats Steve on the shoulder twice before dropping his hand.

"Hi, I'm Darcy," Darcy grins, waving goofishly.

Steve puts on his best 'greeting civilians' face. "Nice to meet you, Darcy. Thor talks about you a lot."

"He better," Darcy says. "I have to put up with his loud moaning from the other side of the wall for hours on end. My god, that man has mad stamina. Now, if you'll excuse me, El Capitan, I have to run away and fangirl about meeting you. Oh, and sorry for your loss. Um. Bye."

She turns and flees, trying to conceal the big grin on her face, because  _funeral_.

Steve blinks, half-gaping.

"Yeah, she's a pistol," Tony smiles. "You okay, Cap?"

"Steve," Steve says, but he smiles, so that's okay.

"Steve," Tony nods, remembering. "Right."

"Yes, I'm fine," Steve says. "They're lowering the coffin, and everyone's going over, so."

"Oh, yeah." Tony follows Steve and stands wedged in between him and Natasha, who, as usual, has no expression and just nods at him- then Clint nudges her and something in her face softens a little.

There's music playing, which in Tony's opinion is cheesy as fuck, and the coffin gets lowered into the grave soundlessly with everyone's heads bowed.

Tony can hear someone crying, but he's not sure who it is. Probably Jane, like Darcy had said.

Tony waits until the crowd is dispersing before tapping Steve's elbow.

"Hey, C- Steve, can I talk to you somewhere private for a second?"

Steve looks vaguely confused for a second, but says, "Sure, Tony," and allows Tony to guide him under a tree, out of earshot.

Tony just stands there for a second, really, really regretting ever thinking of doing this, before stuffing his hand in his pocket and holding out the half-bloodied Captain America cards.

"Uh, I heard you saying that you- yeah. Um. So I got them off of Fury. Which was kind of a stupid idea, I-"

"Thank you," Steve cuts him off, sounding way too grateful to someone who had just handed him a deck of cards with a dead guy's blood on them. "Really, I- thanks, Tony."

"No problem," Tony mumbles, wishing desperately for a lighter topic. "So, uh. I guess I'll be seeing you."

"I guess," Steve says, putting the cards into his back pocket. "I, uh. Had a nice time a few days ago. Firefly's a good show."

"Hell  _yeah_  it is," Tony says. "Joss Whedon packs a fucking punch. Always kills the fan favourite, though, the bastard."

"Oh, god, don't  _remind_  me." Steve scrubs a hand over his eyes.

"I am a leaf on the wind," Tony says. "Watch how I-"

"La, la, la, la," Steve says, clapping his hands over his ears. "Not listening, he recovers and lives a long and happy life with everyone on  _Serenity_ , la, la, la-"

Tony laughs, and Steve starts, and then they're both cracking up again for the second time in a week and it's at a fucking  _funeral_ , what the fuck, and they both force themselves to stop guiltily after a few seconds.

"Uh," Steve says, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, we probably shouldn't burst into hysterical laughter at a funeral," Tony agrees. 

There's an awkward silence, where Tony rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Finally, Tony can't take it. "Joss Whedon has done a lot of shows, by the way."

Steve perks up. "Yeah? Wait, does he-"

"Of course he kills people in them, but that's half the fun," Tony waves a hand dismissively. "It's a TV writer's job to brutally rip your hearts out through fictional characters, they get paid for it. Heard of _Buffy_?"

Steve frowns. "I. I might have?"

"Vampire slayer," Tony prompts. 

Steve opens his mouth, and then shakes his head. "No. Definitely not."

"That makes it more fun, then," Tony grins. "Want to come over and get emotionally invested in a show that will stamp all over your chest?"

"Uh," Steve says. "Will there be popcorn to accompany said chest-stomping?"

-

The last time, they had gotten through all 14 episodes of Firefly ("How the heck can there only be 14 episodes," Steve had said blankly) and 'Serenity,' all in one sitting, which had pretty much taken them an entire day, complete with bathroom breaks.

'Buffy,' however, is 7 seasons long, and none of them are prepared to get pins and needles in their asses for that long, no matter how good the show is, so Steve, Tony and Natasha, surprisingly, only watch the first nine episodes before stopping for the night.

"So," Tony says. "Better than Firefly?"

Steve looks almost wounded as he says, "No, but it's good." He smiles. "I like Willow the best."

"I thought you would," Tony nods, the sides of his mouth twitching.

"Captain!" Thor's voice booms around the lounge and both Steve and Tony wince.

Thor is grinning as he walks towards them. "It is good to see that you have finally joined us in abiding under this roof!"

Steve translates that sentence into words a normal person would say before saying, "Oh, I don't live here, I was just visiting."

Thor's grin dissolves slightly. "But you are the only Avenger who does not! You do not wish to live in the Avengers Tower with the rest of us?"

"No," Steve says, and then backtracks: "I mean, no, I don't not, I-" he stops.

Why isn't he living here?

He turns to Tony. "Why aren't I living here?"

Tony looks flabbergasted, which is an expression that looks new on him.

"I. Uh. Do you want to live here?"

"Sure," Steve says.

Tony bounces his hands off of each other. "Well, that's settled then. Welcome home, I guess."

Steve blinks. "Well, dandy."

Tony cracks a smile. "You're just going to keep bringing that up, aren't you?"

Thor is frowning now. "I am glad that the Captain now resides with us, but what exactly are you referring to, Man of Iron?"

"Private joke, Thor," Natasha pipes up from the couch. "It's a human thing."

"Ah," Thor says.

-

The next day, the world doesn't need saving (again, apparently that's a 'once a month' type of thing), so the mighty Avengers all huddle down to watch the rest of the season one of 'Buffy.'

Not that they plan it- at first, it's just Steve and Tony, but everyone starts migrating towards it- Clint comes up for breakfast and ends up on the couch, Bruce comes out of the workshop to ask Tony about particles and ends up on a chair on the far side of the room, joining Tony in talking about half the things on the show are scientifically impossible.

Natasha comes in next, looking for Clint to spar with, and ends up leaning against him watching Buffy kick the living crap out of the Master.

Thor comes in last- he's confused to where everyone has gone, and had been wandering the house for the last ten minutes (it's a big tower). He shows up at the season finale, and watches in horror as Buffy 'dies.'

Tony stays in the same place- with his hand on Steve's thigh, again, and Steve's starting to think he's doing it on purpose.

Not that he minds.

-

The next week passes like this:

Steve gets up before everyone else, goes for a run, comes back, showers, and sits down for breakfast.

Natasha, Clint and Bruce all seem to come in less than half an hour apart from each other, and Clint manages to finish off the last box of Lucky Charms before anyone else can.

Thor gets up around nine and his presence practically fills the room.

Tony- if he sleeps the night before- comes in around 11 a.m. and demands coffee, then slumps at the table for twenty minutes before he actually talks to anyone.

Most mornings, they catch the news, or finish off an episode- they are now on season 3 of 'Buffy,' and Bruce won't shut up about how pissed he is about what happened to Angel.

"He was such a good  _character_ ," he says, waving his hands. "I mean, for god's sake, you don't just-"

"He comes back, you moron," Tony yells across the lounge. "Now shut up and pass me my tablet."

-

Every morning, Steve starts thinking about how cute Tony's hair looks when it's ruffled like that- then he catches himself, thinks  _don't, it's illegal,_ and then remembers that it's not, and starts smiling to himself, because he's  _allowed_  now.

In the 40s- still less than a month ago, for Steve- he hadn't seen anything wrong with liking the same gender, except with the whole 'it's against the law' thing.

He had still grown up thinking he was a freak, though, because he had never actually met anyone in person who had liked the same gender- the people who were gay never spoke up, and fair enough, Steve has always thought.

He had had other options, though.

Yes, he noticed guys. Yes, he had had a crush on a guy once. 

But he still liked women- their breasts, their hair, how they moved, how they spoke- and he had never acted on his half-formed feelings for Bucky (which he still avoids thinking about, because it hurts too much), so that was okay.

He's not used to allowing himself to think about other guys, least of all Tony.

But one morning Tony shuffles blearily into the kitchen and Steve bumps him with his shoulder, and Tony glares up at him.

"Got your coffee," Steve says, and holds out a mug.

Tony swipes it and takes a sip. "Thanks," he says quietly, mildly confused.

Steve watches the cords in his arms flex and thinks,  _I could get used to this._

-

Steve keeps Coulson's cards next to his photographs in his drawer- photos of Peggy grinning, photos of Bucky with his arms around them both, photos of his mother- and keeps them away from them so the blood doesn't flake off onto them.

It takes him a few days to get around to finally signing them:

 _Better late than never, I guess._  

_-Capt. Steve Rogers._

-

On the 12th day after moving into the Avengers Tower, the world still doesn't need saving, and he walks in on Tony pulling the arc reactor out.

At first, Steve just thinks he's shirtless, "Sorry, I didn't-" then Tony turns and Steve sees that there is a wire running out of a hole in his chest, which is attached to the arc reactor, which Tony has in his hand.

Steve's heartbeat stutters. "What are you doing?"

Tony looks unfazed. "Replacing it. Otherwise it runs out in a few days and my chest goes owie and I go bye-bye."

Relief washes over Steve. "Oh. Oh, okay."

_Good to see you're not trying to kill yourself in the most painful way possible, because I think that might put a damper on our friendship._

"Shrapnel, right?" Steve says, and then wants to internally whack himself over the head.

But Tony says, "Yeah. Gnarly, huh?"

"Mmm," Steve agrees, looking at the criss-cross pattern of the scars around the hole.

Tony's not watching him now- he bends sideways, and picks up another glowing circle of light before clicking it into place in his chest.

The light casts the scars into soft definition- some of them are wider than other, and some are just thin ribbons that start and stop around his torso.

He's not aware of shifting forwards, but suddenly his hand is moving towards Tony's chest. He splays his fingers, hovering his hand over the arc reactor, letting the blue light spill over his wrist.

He pushes his hand forwards slowly, hand touching the cold, humming metal. It reminds him of the ocean, sort of, or a star- luminous, brilliant, blazing.

 _Like Tony,_  his mind supplies dumbly, and Steve wonder briefly if someone put a pheremone in the air or something.

Steve rests his hand on the arc reactor for a few seconds, his hand warming the metal. He skims a thumb over the curved edge of it, only barely nicking Tony's skin before moving down to trace one of the largest scars with the tips of his fingers.

When his hand touches it, Tony, who has been frozen into place at this point, lets out a strangled, choking sound.

Steve startles, whipping his hand back.

 _Why the heck did you do that?_  "I- sorry, I was just-" he stops, because he suddenly can't think of anything to say. 

"Sorry," he says again, lamely. 

Tony looks shaken, but he composes himself quickly.  

"Uh. Yeah."

Tony clears his throat. "Whatever, Cap. Steve," He corrects himself, and Steve can't help smiling at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still WIP! Next chapter will hopefully be soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve quotes 'Firefly' and Tony Stark is Tony Stark.

It happens when Tony is about to be crushed by The Statue of Liberty, which happens to be walking across New York at the time.

He's in the middle of doing something stupidly heroic and self-sacrificing ("Must be a Thursday," Clint yells at him later), when he gets swiped by the torch that Lady Liberty is holding and plummets into the ground.

He raises his head -  _fuck, concussion_ \- and looks up to see a giant green foot bearing down on him that isn't the Hulk.

He starts to get up, but one of his repulsors won't-

All of a sudden, he finds himself wrapped around six feet of All-American Hero, who is downright charging him out of the way.

Tony, who at this point is very, very concussed, can only stare and let himself be manhandled as Lady Liberty's foot crushes the concrete where they were just standing.

"That was st'pid." Tony mumbles, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. "Y' could've got hurt. Moron. Y're a moron."

Cap is panting. "Yeah, well. If you can't run, you walk. If you can't walk, you crawl. If you can't crawl, y-" he pauses to sling his shield across a giant (and lethal) teddy bear's chest. 

"You find someone to carry you," Cap finishes, adjusting his cowl. "Are you okay?"

Steve's bottom lip is split, and there's dirt all over his suit, and it hits Tony like a kick to the nuts:  _hi, I'm in love with you._

Tony is swaying slightly, stuck between shock at his revelation and: "Did- did you just quote  _Firefly_  at me?"

"Yes, yes I did. Tony, seriously, are you-"

Tony doesn't hear the rest of it, because his double vision starts getting worse and he passes out.

-

Everyone sits by Tony in the hospital for three hours- 'everyone' being Clint, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Pepper, and Darcy, for some reason.

Darcy keeps randomly belting out lyrics and then stopping. Apparently she does it when she's nervous.

"It's just a concussion," Natasha says finally, after more than an hour of silence. "He'll be fine. Why are we all here?"

Bruce looks up from his tablet. "Because when your friend is in the hospital, this is what you do. Or so I've heard. Besides, it's Tony. With his luck, it'll probably turn out to be an inoperable tumour."

"That's not funny," Steve says quietly, watching the slow rise and fall of Tony's chest.

It's been two and a half months since Steve has been unfrozen. In that time, they've got up to season 4 of  _Buffy_ \- there's a girl named Tara on the show who Steve has grown affectionate of, but everyone else keeps casting him knowing looks when she talks to Willow, and Steve can't figure out why.

The nightmares haven't gone away, but they're very definitely fading. Steve only wakes up a few times a week with a phantom hand outstretched towards him, the gasp of Peggy's brown eyes, the ice encircling him, Bucky's body twisting in the air as he falls.

 _Just a concussion,_  Steve reminds himself, and tries to stop himself from thinking about the soft angle of Tony's mouth cast into light from where he's lying. Yes, it's not illegal, but Tony is his  _friend_ \- hell, his best friend, even- and he doesn't want to foul that up with- with whatever he's feeling.

"Whoa, jeez, personal space, guys."

Steve looks up and Tony's head is raised slightly, frowning.

"Hey, Tony."

"Hey, Steve," Tony mumbles, confused. "What ha- oh my god, Natasha's smiling."

Everyone turns to look at Natasha, who quickly attempts to stop.

"What?" She says. "Tony's not dead and I'm happy about it. Hence, I smile."

"I'm sure he's touched." Clint nudges her shoulder with his, smiling fondly.

"I am," Tony says. "Very touched indeed. Touched to the max. Touchapalooza. I'm still concussed, aren't I? Please say I didn't just say 'touchapalooza' when I'm normal. Normal. Noooormal."

"They gave you some painkillers," Steve grins, watching Tony's head roll around on his neck. "You look so sophisticated right now."

"Damn straight," Tony slurs, moving his head from side to side.

"Well, it's nice to see you're your usual healthy, sensible self," sighs Pepper, getting up, "but I have a company to run. I'll see you later, Mr. Stark."

"See ya, Pep," Tony waves sloppily. "I'm glad we're speaking again. I like you."

A side of Pepper's mouth twitches. "I like you, too, Tony," she says, and closes the door behind her.

Thor frowns. "When did they stop talking? I was under the impression that they had a beautiful and epic romance."

"Pshhhhh," Tony says, pushing his head backwards into the pillow. "Didn't work out. Lasted a good two weeks, though, which I consider to be an accomplishment. Accomplishment. Acomplishhhhhh."

"Yes, nice work, Tony," Steve says, trying not to smile. "Clint, don't take pictures."

"But I want to mock him about it later," Clint whines. 

Steve glares. "Put your phone away. You, too, Darcy."

Tony raises his head again. "Darcy? Oh, hey, Darcy!" He waves, and Darcy waves back just as enthusiastically.

Tony bobs his head at her. "You're nice. I like you, as well. I like everyone in this room, actually, which is weird, because usually I don't like lots of people. Lots."

"We like you, too, Tony," Bruce says from the end of the bed, definitely not laughing.

"Naaaah," Tony waves his wrist vaguely at Bruce. "People don't. 's bad idea."

Steve starts to say something, but Bruce cuts him off: "We like you, Tony," and everyone sort of looks at each other.

Tony makes a face. "You guys are weird. Weird. Bruce! Bruuuuuce," Tony drawls. "I liked you fiiiiiiirst."

Bruce raises his eyebrows. "Back at you."

"Hey, could we get him out of here before he does something really, really embarassing that will probably end up all over the news?" Natasha points at Tony, who is now staring avidly at his IV.

"I hate the news," Tony moans. "Bad stuff happens. I made a lot of bad stuff happen, too. Which is bad. It was on the news."

"Yeah, we know," Clint says. "Seriously, so none of us can video him for later?"

"No," Steve says. "Any of you get your phones out and I'm throwing them out the window."

"Like Steve, too," Tony says, and his hand latches onto Steve's wrist, but he's frowning. "Didn't like him at the start. He was mean. But now I do. Like him. Lots of like. Lots and lots of like for Steeeeve."

"Um. Thanks, Tony," Steve says. "You, too."

Tony flops his hands around. "Noooo.  _Lots_  of like. Looots."

Steve, blushing furiously, says to the rest of the room, "Would he be okay to go home now?"

-

Tara gets together with Willow- as in, a romantic relationship, as in they show it on  _television_  and it's  _allowed_ and Steve can't help but love the 21st century sometimes.

He was originally sad when Oz left, but Tara makes Willow happy, and that's what's important.

Everyone says he's too emotionally invested.

Tony's asleep- they have to wake him up once an hour, to make sure he's not dead, as one does when they're concussed, and everyone else is on the couch watching Buffy again, except for Thor, who is visiting Asguard.

So far, Steve's experience in the Avengers has had a lot more TV watching than actual fighting.

Tony shuffles into the lounge, squinting. "Please, dear god, tell me I didn't try to grope anyone."

Clint raises his arm, and Natasha swats him.

"Is he allowed to be moving around yet?" Steve asks, concerned.

Tony snarls. "I'm only sitting on the couch. I promise not to blow things up." He walks over to Steve and collapses beside him on the couch- usually he takes the floor, so Steve's kind of surprised. 

But there's Tony's hand again, pushed haphazardly near Steve's thigh, and it's so  _normal_  now that Steve hardly notices.

Tony rubs a hand over the cut running through his eyebrow. "What episode are we up to?"

Natasha comes into the room holding a bottle of lemonade. "The one after Tara and Willow hook up."

"Mph," Tony says.

"Gotta give props to Joss," Clint says through a mouthful of popcorn. "Not many people would have the balls to pull that off."

"Pull what off," Tony mutters.

Clint throws a piece of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth. "Make her gay."

"Uh-huh," Tony says, his eyes drooping.

Steve looks around at everyone's faces. "Is it a big deal? Making her gay?"

Bruce glances at him and then back to the screen. "I guess so. I mean, she's one of the main characters. I have no idea how he got the people to approve it."

Steve says, "The people?"

Bruce nods. " _The_  people."

Steve says, "I-" and then stops, because Tony's head has dropped onto his shoulder and he's snoring quietly.

Clint smirks. "Aw, ain't he cute?"

 _Yes_ , Steve thinks, watching the way Tony's mouth is sort of pressed against Steve's shoulder, how his eyelashes fan out over his cheeks.

"Hey, why-" Steve pauses, checking to see is Tony is actually asleep. After a few seconds, Tony shifts and starts snoring again, so Steve continued in a hushed voice: "Why do you think he doesn't think we like him?"

"Uh," Bruce says, "Not to be rude, but people- I mean, in general, don't like Tony. You know how he can be sometimes. I mean,  _I_  like him, he's a great guy, but- you didn't like him at first, Cap."

"I- well, yes, but-"

"First impressions, blah, blah," Clint says. "Tony's an acquired taste. You either hate him or grow to love him." He pauses. "Or, y'know, Stockholm Syndrome. Honestly, I think we're all just lucky that Cap didn't bring up his dad when they were shouting at each other on the Helicarrier."

Steve frowns. "Howard? Why?"

Clint takes a drag from the lemonade bottle. "Because then he would have a broken hand from punching Captain America, and I think that first impression would have lasted longer."

Steve opens his mouth, but Natasha says, "Tony and his father didn't exactly have the best relationship. With either of his parents, but with Howard especially."

"But- why?" Steve's voice gets a bit too loud at that, and he forces himself to talk quieter, checking nervously that Tony hasn't woken up. "I knew Howard, he was a good guy."

"Yeah, 70 years ago," Bruce says pointedly, and Steve remembers the tight expression Tony had given him when he had brought up Howard that one time- he had thought it was just because it's his dad, and he's dead, but hey, maybe not.

Steve says, "That's..." and just trails off.

He wants to ask Bruce more about it, because obviously he knows more about it, and Bruce- okay, he probably knows Tony better than him, he's just as close with Tony as Steve is, if not closer.

"Bruce and I are LB5E. Lab Buddies 5ever," Tony had said once, raising an eyebrow, and then, "I'll explain later, Capsicle," when Steve had looked confused at what the heck '5ever' meant.

He wants to ask, but Tony looks beautiful, and he still misses Peggy, and Bucky, and he only got a few hours of sleep last night due to the solid weight of the Howard that he never got to know and he's not sure he even likes, of not-Bucky and not-Peggy and  _not his decade_.

His fingers itch for an easel or charcoal, so he just shuts up and watches Tara and Willow grin at each other and revels in how damn happy they look, how the TV is huge, how outside there are the sounds of New York, but not the New York that Steve is used to.

It's an ache that between his ribs, seeps into his veins, curls around his spine, wraps around his lungs and  _squeezes_  so he's gasping.

-

When Steve wakes up screaming Bucky's name again for the second time that night, he lies in bed for a few minutes, breathing thickly, with his hand pressed to his eyes, trying to ignore the wetness against his fingers.

After a while, his breathing evens out, and he slings his feet over the side of the bed, reaching for his water bottle.

_Looks like another few hours in the gym._

Sighing, he makes his way quietly down the hall, and then turns down the path that takes him to the gym, but then puts his water bottle to his lips and realizes it's empty.

He shakes it, checking, and turns back, trying to remember where the heck the kitchen is.

He recognizes the glass elephant that is near the door- a _glass elephant,_  honestly, but Pepper thinks it's nice- and walks inside, stopping when he sees that a light is already on.

It's not unusual- they all have weird sleeping habits. Hell, Thor is the only one of them who actually sleeps like a regular human being, but Bruce and Tony are usually in the workshop, and Clint and Natasha are usually in the gym.

He pads towards the light, and the flash of black hair floods him with a rush of fondness.

"Hey, Tony."

Tony jumps, almost spilling coffee down his front.

He spins. "Steve! Christ, make some noise when you walk!"

Steve smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. Are you working on something again?"

Tony takes a sip of his coffee, and then smacks his lips. "Not at the moment. Why?"

Steve gestures at the coffee. "You pull a lot of all-nighters when you're working on something. You should really sleep more."

"Says you." Tony takes another drag. "How many times have you been working out in the gym at this time of night this week?"

Steve shrugs. "A few."

"A  _few_ ," Tony smirks. "Whatever you say, Steve."

Steve leans against the counter. "What time is it, anyway?"

Tony checks his watch. "3:34 A.M. My most productive time of day. Night. Whatever."

Steve nods. "Insomnia?"

"Sort of." Tony taps his fingers against the rim of the mug. "My brain won't shut up. One of the many downsides of being a genius. You?"

Steve shrugs. "Just insomnia. You know."

Tony watches him with something like  _knowing_ , and Steve shifts uneasily.

"Yeah," Tony says eventually. "Gotta hate it, right?"

"Right," Steve says, too relieved, and smiles gratefully at him.

Tony smiles back, maybe too wide, Steve remembers, then, the needy strain of his voice when Tony had said: "Like Steve, too. Lots and lots of like for Steeeeeve."

 _Needy_  isn't a word that's widely associated with Tony.

Tony Stark, with his effortless smile and effortless machines and effortless laugh like everything just comes naturally to him- how he stands, walks, drinks. How he walks into a room and takes everyone's gaze almost automatically, how he keeps the conversation moving in front of a camera and knows the right angles to be seen at.

 _Needy_  isn't a word that's associated with Tony Stark, because if you watch the news, or a talk show, or anything where Tony is on screen- hell, if you talk to him on the street- Tony doesn't seem to need anyone.

He can survive by himself- cracking jokes, pissing people off, having perfect hair and stubble and grin like it's second nature, because he's such a  _Stark_ , always has been, and the same with Iron Man-

Tony Stark gets treated differently. And it's stupid, but it's true.

Tony puts on the suit and flips the faceplate down, and he barks orders and pulls stupid shit and saves people, saves everyone even if he almost dies doing it, and he's still cocky and a bit of an ass but people respect him for it.

Steve sees more than people see on camera: the grease stains on his forehead. The burns on his fingers. The roughness of not having shaved for a few days. The heavy rings under his eyes.

See, Steve gets treated differently, too:

"A living legend," Fury had said, "That actually lives up to the legend."

Steve doesn't feel like a legend. He doesn't feel like an icon that magically came back from the dead. He doesn't feel like he's on calenders, and on the news, and has statues dedicated to him.

He doesn't feel like it, but apparently he is. A legend, that is. He still feels like the skinny kid from Brooklyn who got beat up a lot.

Steve Rogers still gets treated with respect, don't get him wrong- there are still salutes and thank-yous and handshakes, but Steve wishes that people could just draw the line sometimes, because he gets so, so tired of being Captain America 24/7.

Steve looks at Tony, and Tony looks back, and then they're just two tired guys in a kitchen who can't sleep.

"Want to go watch the rest of season 4 of Buffy?"

Tony smiles. "Sure."


	4. Chapter 4

When Steve wakes up, his first thought is:

_Peggy's been running out of lipstick, I should-_

and he sits up, and he looks over, and there's a digital clock blinking glossy red numbers at him, and everything crashes around him again.

When Tony wakes up, he tastes grit in his mouth.

There's metal against his wrists, and his stomach is empty, again. He remembers not to move, because it might jostle the wires and the car battery could disconnect.

He blinks groggily, and he's in his workshop, and Dummy's whirring in concern, and his breathing is ragged, and he's not in the cave, and he's fine, he's okay, he's  _fine_ , but not really.

The both of them sit there, in separate rooms, in different parts of the house, trying to breathe and trying to make their minds stay where they are:

in 2012, in the Avengers Tower, right here, right now, and then the Avengers alarm starts blaring and they snap into Captain America and Iron Man, and that's just how it goes.

-

So apparently the villains of the world had been holding out, because all of a sudden, every villain worth their shit is trying to create a doomsday device.

It keeps the Avengers busy for the next week and a half, barely getting time to sleep between the next dastardly plot of another piss-poor villain that never fail to have a cheesy name and monologues just long enough for them to stop him.

"Okay,  _fuck_  this," Tony pants after they foil the eleventh attempt to end the world in less than two weeks. "That was the last super villain that I know of, therefore there shouldn't be any more fucking doomsday devices. Most of them come with a self-destruct button anyway. Let's get shwarma."

Steve huffs out a breathless laugh, rotating his sprained shoulder and thanking god that the serum makes him heal faster.

After the first 'oh hey we saved the world let's go eat shwarma' thing happened, it had kind of become a tradition- after a battle, the Avengers went to a crappy restaurant, ordered shwarma, and ignored everyone's shocked looks at their sweaty and bloodied appearances.

Thor grins at everyone, always strung from adrenaline after a fight, which keeps most of the people at bay, nervously shifting their chairs away.

Bruce's head keeps dropping to the table, and Steve has been watching him carefully- everyone gets cranky when they're tired, and if he Hulked out now, there would be even more property damage than they could afford.

And, honestly, everyone is exhausted and none of them can be bothered calming a pissed-off, tired Hulk down.

Still, they end up having an okay time. Since everyone's tired, everything is more funny, so Tony's jokes make everyone crack a smile instead of just flipping him off like some of them usually do.

They get stopped three times for an autograph, but other than that, everyone seems to acknowledge that they're pissed and tired and just want to fall into bed and sleep for a week- Steve gets a respectful nod from a teenage boy across the street.

He likes respectful nods- he nods back, and waves, and the guy smiles.

"Nice job, man," he calls, and gives him the thumbs-up. He can't be more than 15.

Steve smiles wearily. "Thanks."

The guy gives him a half-salute, and stuffs his hands in his pockets before turning back and continuing down the street.

The Avengers are all walking around him, practically dragging their feet, and Steve feels stupidly content.

Saving the world, again.

-

They make it back to the Tower without being interrupted, and Bruce just calls it quits and falls face-first into the couch, glasses askew (everyone carries spare ones since he breaks them every time he Hulks out) and is snoring four seconds after he hits the cushions.

Natasha and Thor break off to their rooms, and Clint, Tony and Steve continue down the hallway, Tony shedding the armour as they go.

"Night," Clint mumbles, walking into his room and not closing the door behind him. 

Steve hears the  _flomp_  of Clint's body hitting the bed, much like Bruce hitting the couch.

The last piece of armour clatters to the ground and Tony rolls his shoulders, breathing out heavily.

Steve starts to say 'goodnight,' but stops when Tony starts careening sideways.

"Whoa, hey." Steve grabs Tony just as his legs give out, and Tony sort of dangles.

"'m fine," he says. "Haven't slept in a few..." he trails off, eyes slipping shut, and Steve watches as Tony literally falls asleep in his arms.

For a few seconds, Steve just holds him, surprised, but when Tony doesn't react, he scoops him up into both arms.

He waits for Tony to make some awkward joke, but when nothing happens except his loud snore, Steve starts towards Tony's room.

He can barely keep his own eyes open, but he carefully levers Tony down onto his bed and pulls the covers up to his chest, almost smiling at how Tony looks right now.

"Night, Tony," He says softly as he closes the door behind him, and heads for his own room, too tired to do anything but fall on his bed and let sleep claim him as he thinks about the soft weight of Tony in his arms.

-

When Steve wakes up from a thankfully dreamless sleep, it's been 13 hours and sun is shining through his curtains.

His shoulder is completely healed now, and he takes his time getting up- brushing his teeth, showering, his muscles slowly unknotting under the running water, undoing his bandages and running his fingers over the stained skin that was jagged with cuts less than a day ago.

He sighs.

He's never going to get used to this.

When he emerges into the kitchen, Clint and Bruce are there, both eating toast.

"We're out of every cereal ever," Clint says, chewing. "Someone's going to have to go to the shops. Dibs not."

"Dibs not," Steve says, because honestly, shops in this decade kind of scare him- everything's so bright, and he always ends up wanting to bang his head against the wall, because there's a whole aisle for tampons and toilet paper and one for ice cream and one for biscuits and he just wants to drop to the floor and scream  _why_. 

So he generally tends to avoid them.

"Buffy marathon, now," Natasha calls from the lounge, and Steve perks up, because he hasn't seen an episode in over a week.

As he sits down on the couch, Tony shoves in next to him. "What episode were we up to?"

Bruce says, "End of season six."

"Almost the end of season six," Steve corrects him. "We just saw Tara and Willow make up."

"Ah," Tony says. Then, " _Ah_."

Steve blinks. "What?"

Tony clears his throat. "Nothing. Uh, Jarvis, play 'Seeing Red.'"

Clint sniggers. "You have the episode titles memorized?" 

"Genius," Tony reminds him. "I remember things quickly. Literally became an expert on gamma radiation overnight."

"Ass," Bruce remarks from beside him.

"True," Tony says, and Steve shushes them both as the screen fuzzes on.

-

"Oh, god," Steve says.

Tony says, "Steve-"

"Oh, god," Steve says again, shoving his face into his hands. "No. This- oh, god, is she actually-?"

"It's Joss Whedon," Tony smiles and it comes out as a grimace. "He always kills the fan favourites, you know that. I warned you before we started watching."

"Oh,  _god_ ," Steve repeats. "But- but she and Willow- and Buffy's okay, I know that, she's the main character, but oh, god,  _Tara_."

"I told you not to get too attached," Tony squirms.

"Oh, god," Steve says, his voice muffled in his fingers. "Jarvis, next episode."

"Are you sure? I can-"

"What, sue Joss Whedon? I need to see what happens to Willow, this will  _destroy_  her- oh, poor  _Tara_."

"This is kind of disturbing," Clint announces, watching Steve and Tony.

"Jarvis, don't play the episode," Tony instructs. "Steve, seriously, are you okay?"

Steve tries to steady his breathing. He thinks of Tara and Willow's last moment together: the blood like scattered roses, the realization, the disbelief in Willow's face, Tara's dream-like: " _your shirt..."_

"I- give me a minute," Steve says, bending slightly.

He can feel everyone's eyes on him, and can't help thinking how stupid this is, how he's reacting, it's just a show. But he keeps thinking of the look on Tara's face, the  _lack_ , how she had crumpled, how stupid it is to get this invested in a fictional character, but god, their  _faces_. 

He breathes out, long and steady. "Could I get a car to drive me somewhere?"

-

Officially, it has been four months since Steve has been unfrozen, he's checked.

Four months of waking up to blinking red letters, the harsh reminder of  _you're not in the 40s anymore, fucker,_  the paparazzi, the  _hey, everyone you ever knew is dead from old age,_  the blank face whenever anyone makes a reference, the howling absence like a phantom limb for Bucky and Peggy and his own time.

So he gets someone from SHIELD to drive him to Peggy's grave- not Bucky's, because it doesn't even have a body and he's been coping with it for longer, and he needs to talk to Peggy, anyway.

He stands in front of the headstone for a long time, feeling his legs go numb and Tony's gaze hit the back of his head- he hadn't offered to come, but Steve had insisted.

Tony's way back at the car, only barely in sight. It felt better, somehow- him being there.

Finally, he says, "You were beautiful, you know."

He smiles, fighting against the pinching behind his eyes. "I don't think I ever told you. Stupid, right? I mean, there was that one time when I stumbled over my words in the car before the serum, but- I don't know, that didn't count. And, uh. I just- you were-"

He stops, wets his lips, tries to get his thoughts together and fails miserably. "I don't think we could've actually been happy together, Pegs. I mean, the time we would've got, sure, but- we kept saying that we'd give it a try after the war. I- I'm Captain America, Pegs, and even back then, I couldn't give that up, I couldn't-"

He takes a huge, shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "In another world, I guess we could've actually had a shot at this. At- yeah. But, uh. I was late, and I'm sorry, and you got to live a long, happy life, and I am so glad for that, you have no idea, but- it's so goddamn  _bright_  here, all the time, everything's- and I just coped with it, at first, and that was fine. It was fine. And-"

He smiles, and then drops it, and then smiles again, with it ticking at the edges. "I think I'm going to be okay, Pegs. I- there's this team, called the Avengers, and they're sort of like family to me now. I don't know if it's mutual, but, uh. And there's- there's a guy, did I mention that? It's legal now, finally. He's- he's amazing, Pegs. He's infuriating and he swears a lot and he's  _gorgeous_ , god. Howard's son, actually. Man, Bucky would bust a rib laughing, I-"

He stops again, swallowing hard, breathing out in bursts, wondering why the hell he's doing this.

"I mean, he's my friend, and I- I don't know. I think- I can just let it be, for now, everything's- but it blindsides me sometimes, and- and I was watching a show just now, in colour, because they're all in colour now, apparently, and- and this girl died, and she was beautiful, and she made Willow so happy, and I just thought of you, and I wish-"

He shudders and sobs once, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I miss you so goddamn much, Pegs," he whispers.

He wipes the wetness from his face and just stands for a few seconds, getting himself together, before he straightens his posture and turns, walking back to the car.

Tony watches him the whole way, and when he gets into range, he puts a hand onto his shoulder. "You good?"

Steve just smiles grimly, and Tony nods. "Fair enough."

Tony's hand stays on his shoulder, and then shifts slightly so his palm is pushing into Steve's neck, his thumb on his jaw. It stays there for a second, rubbing slightly, and Steve tilts his head into it, wanting to close his eyes, wanting to feel the soft warmth, wanting to feel anything Tony has to offer, but then Tony's hand is at his side again and he looks kind of lost.

"Ah," Tony says.

Steve smiles, genuinely this time. "Thank you for coming out here with me, Tony."

Tony's gaze flickers around his face for a second, looking unsettled, but he smiles back slightly and says, "Anytime, Steve."


	5. Chapter 5

Five months and counting since Steve has been unfrozen from the ice, and this is the first party he's gone to.

Thank  _god_.

'Party' being a relative term, in this case, because apparently it's a benefit for starving African children, or something to that effect.

So, basically, it's a couple dozen rich people in swanky dresses and suits, all glaring at each other and smiling too much for Steve to be comfortable. Actually, it kind of creeps him out.

And then, of course, there's Tony, being his usual charming, self abusive self.

Steve's not sure if he should be disturbed or impressed, because Tony is schmoozing his way through the entire guest list, flirting and making small talk before moving onto his next target.

Steve just watches his progress with his eyebrows raised: it's train-wreck beautiful, not wanting to look but unable to tear his eyes away-

This is Tony Stark, from channel five, from the front page, from the talk shows. Tony Stark with a dazzling smile like a shark bite, Tony Stark tying a cherry stem with his tongue and winking, Tony Stark laughing that fake laugh and-

hating it, Steve knows.

Finally, when Tony has come full-circle, he nudges his way forwards.

"Hello," he says, smiling, then stopping when he catches his reflection in a glass. "Do you guys mind if I borrow Tony for a minute?"

The woman grins at him, ruby-red lips parting over stark white teeth. " _Anything_  for Captain America," she purrs, sickly-sweet.

"Uh, thanks," Steve says. "Tony?"

Tony downs the rest of his glass. "Sure thing, Cap."

Steve walks him over to the corner by his elbow. When they're out of earshot, he folds his arms.

"There's been an emergency. Official Avenger business."

Tony's grin gains momentum. "Thank  _fucking_  god. What is it this time? Radioactive asparagus storming the city? Is 'asparagus' the plural? Asparaguses? Asparagasi?"

Steve's mouth flickers upwards. "Really?"

"First thing I could think of, and it wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen to us this month," Tony says flatly.

Steve nods. "True. But this is worse."

"Do tell."

Steve pauses, before realizing that he didn't actually have a lie prepared and giving himself an internal slap.

"Uh," Steve says. "Okay, I was lying to get you over here. You- I am physically cringing watching you do all this."

Tony just blinks at him for a few seconds. "Soooo... that's it? No dire emergency?"

"Tony," Steve says, and again, the  _something_  hits him like it's been doing for months now.

He knows what it is- he knows, it was like this with Peggy, she would be combing her hair, or laughing, or even just standing there, and Steve would feel it consuming him from the inside out.

Tony looks at him expectantly, all show and walls and glossy smile, and Steve feels the overwhelming  _something_  crush his ribs.

He wants to run his thumb over Tony's bottom lip, catch it with his teeth, press his mouth to his hipbone, trace his spine with his tongue. He wants him tired, he wants him pissed off, he wants him grinning and doubled over laughing. He wants him slurring from exhaustion, he wants his wrists, his ankles, he wants him so much is half-hurts, he wants him- he wants all of Tony, everything, even the Stark part.

He gets stuck saying it, though, and instead says, "Can we- god, Tony, can we just go home and watch the original movie of Buffy that everyone says is horrible?"

Steve sees the smile finally reach Tony's eyes and the  _something_  rears up Steve's throat and threatens to spill over.

Tony reaches up to scrub at his stubble. "Well, I guess if people don't miss me too much. I'm paying for this shit, anyway. Can't even remember what it's for."

"Starving African children," Steve prompts.

"Ah," Tony says. "That. Where are the rest of us?"

"Uh, Clint's over at the chocolate fountain," Steve says. "Thor is currently outdrinking the entire party, and I think Bruce and Tasha are sitting in the corner, glaring at everyone. Politely."

"Okeydokey," Tony says. "Avenger Assemble, then."

Steve bats him on the shoulder. "I'm the one that says that."

Tony rolls his eyes. "Well, text everyone."

"Already here, bitches," a voice says from above them both.

They look up, and Clint is dangling from a wire in the ceiling.

"Clint," Steve calls. "Seriously?"

"I got bored," Clint calls back. He gives a two-fingered salute to the people who are now all staring. "Hey, everyone. This is what your taxes to go."

"Get down, you moron," Tony sighs.

Steve's gaze catches on Natasha and Bruce, who are making their way through the crowd.

Natasha's hand is near her thigh, where Steve knows she keeps a knife strapped to at all times. Even in the shower, according to some disturbing reports. "We got trouble, Cap?"

"Steve's bored," Tony announces quietly as Clint drops down. "We're going to go home and watch the shitty Buffy movie. You guys coming?"

Natasha looks at Clint, who shrugs. "We're game."

"I don't think I can take another second of the horrible music they have here," Bruce says. "And everyone keeps referring to me as 'the angry green guy,' and then inching away from me. Except for this one drunk guy who kept poking me and trying to make me Hulk out."

Steve looks him over. "Did he stop?"

"Nah, Natasha decked him. Thanks, Tash, by the way."

"My pleasure," Natasha says. "Where the hell is Thor?"

"Getting alcohol poisoning," Steve answers. 

Natasha sighs. "I'll go and get him. Don't wait up."

"Great," Tony says, clapping his hands together. "Now, can we all pretend this is something really urgent so we can get out of here, because there's  someone advancing on us and I really don't want to fund his auction, or whatever it-"

"Tonyyyyy!" A fat man in a tight suit slaps him hard on the back. "How've you been?"

Tony smiles tightly. "I've been just  _dandy_ , Slim," he says, shooting Steve a look. "But sadly, I must flee. Official Avengers business."

"Ah, I see how it is," Slim says, waggling his finger at him. "Can't avoid me forever, Stark!"

"I can try," Tony mutters to his retreating back. And then, to the others, "Let's vamoose, quick, before everyone starts asking me for shit. Come on, go, go, go."

-

When they get to the Tower, the news is showing the footage on Steve on a jetski, again.

"I swear to god," Tony says, "They play it on a loop. What's so great about Captain America on a jetski, anyway?"

Steve pats Dummy on the head as he passes. "I liked it."

"Yeah,  _you_  liked it," Tony says through a mouthful of water. "the problem is that everyone else did, too."

"Captain America shirtless and drenched," Clint says. "What's not to like?"

Tony eyes him. "I thought you were straight."

"Back at you," Clint bumps his eyebrows. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the male body. Especially one like Cap's."

Steve is very determinedly not blushing. "Thank... you?"

"Thank  _you_ ," Clint shoots back. "Now we get interesting news stories, rather than ones about 'the most recent time Tony got wasted in public and did something stupid.'"

Silence, where Tony looks at the ground and everyone else stares daggers at Clint. Natasha widens her eyes pointedly.

Clint clears his throat. "Joke. That was a joke. I was joking. I, um. Sorry, Tony."

When Tony looks at him, it's that plastic smile again. "It's fine."

"Tony," Steve says, and then stops. "You were, uh. Drinking when I came over. You said you wouldn't drink at the party."

Tony twists his hands together, his smile diminishing. "I didn't," he says.

"You were when I-"

"It was soda water," Tony says, finally looking up. "I checked. I got the help banned from serving me."

"You- oh. That's-" Steve feels a grin creep up his face. "That's really good, Tony."

"Mmm," Tony says.

Steve starts: "No, really, that's-"

"So, Buffy?" Tony's smile is practically straining his cheeks, and everyone glances at each other.

Steve deflates slightly, but he can't stop smiling, albeit a bit sadly. "Buffy," He agrees. "Jarvis, play the movie."

-

Tony excuses himself halfway through, proclaiming that he can't sit through another minute of it because it's a disgrace to the series- which it  _is_ , he says- and starts towards his room.

But come  _on_. When two depressed alcoholics breed, they tend to have a depressed alcoholic.

Steve, because he's a bastard, corners him in the hallway.

Tony tries to brush him off, saying, "Steve, I'm really tired, y-"

"Clint didn't mean it," Steve cuts him off. "And we're all proud of you for what you're doing, Tony. You're doing really well."

"Uh-huh," Tony says, not looking at him. "Honestly, Steve, just let me go, I'm exhaust-"

" _Tony_ ," Steve says exasperatedly, putting his hands on Tony's shoulders, and okay, now Tony's paying attention.

Steve's grinning as he says, "You. Are. Doing. Great."

Tony forces back a smile. "Oh. Kay. Steve. Can. I. Go. To. Bed. Now. Pretty. Please."

Steve lets him go. "Sure, Tony, you should've asked before."

Tony glares at him, but it doesn't come out very menacing since he's sort of smiling now.

Steve holds up his hands in surrender and turns back, heading for the lounge again.

Tony watches him leave, tired and wanting a drink and stupidly in love with Steve.

He can hear Natasha and Clint arguing over the special effects, Thor asking something about the 'strange modes of dress,' and Bruce telling them all to shut up so he can actually watch the movie.

Steve glances him over his shoulder. "See you in the morning, Tony."

"See you," Tony nods at him, and then he's full-on grinning.

"Home," He says quietly. "Huh."


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha has been staring at Steve for the past 12 seconds and it's freaking him out.

She had just sat down, leaned in until they were only two inches apart, and started staring wordlessly.

Steve stares back until finally the silence gets unbearable and he says, "Um. Can I help you, Tash?"

She smiles charmingly and holy heck, that is terrifying.

"We need to have a talk."

"Oka-"

"About Tony."

_Oh, god._

"Um," Steve says, trying to ignore how his heart rate has just increased to dangerous levels. "What about Tony?"

"Hmm," Natasha says, in a  _'you-are-a-dipshit_ ' tone. "Why on earth would I possibly want to talk to you about Tony?"

"Um," Steve says again, at a loss to articulate properly. "I- his drinking has gotten better?"

"Indeed it has," Natasha nods. "And we're all glad that he's not passing out in his own vomit anymore. But that's not what I want to talk to you about and you know it."

Steve takes an unsteady sip of water from his bottle. "I can't think of anything else."

"Dig deep, Cap," Natasha says. "You can do it."

Steve starts spluttering nervously, and Natasha's terrifying smile turns sympathetic, and jeez, this is the most emotion Steve's ever seen her display.

"Steve," she says, and Steve startles, because she hasn't called him that before. "Do I have to spell it out for you? It's legal, you're both two mature, consenting adults- consenting, anyway, and-" she looks him over, and pauses. "And you're in way over your head, huh?"

" _Yes_ ," Steve groans, fisting his hand in his hair and dropping his head into his hand.

Natasha looks like she's fighting back a grin, but when he looks again, her face is as blank as usual, except for a hint of the smile. "I feel for you. Actually, no I don't, because you're both idiots who need to pull their heads out of their asses. Just- what's stopping you?"

Steve looks up at her from behind his hand. He drops it to the table, and his gaze follows it, trying to find a singular answer. 

"I," he says, and then stops. "I don't know, he's  _Tony_. Not in a bad way," he backtracks. "It's- he just- he wouldn't. I'm not-"

Natasha reaches over and pats him on the hand, which makes him jerk backwards slightly in surprise. "Don't sell yourself short, Cap."

She stands up suddenly, and Steve blinks at her. "On a completely different matter, I need to see Bruce." she starts towards the door.

"Oh, and Cap-" She glances back. "You're both idiots."

The door closes, and Steve says, "Thanks, Tash," to an empty room.

-

"So." Bruce taps his knuckles on the table. "Steve."

Tony continues soldering. "No, Bruce.  _Tony_."

"Ha, ha," Bruce says. "I meant that I need to talk to you  _about_  Steve."

Tony pauses for a second. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Bruce says. "You a-"

"Oh, hey, look at the time, I should've been in a meeting ten minutes ago," Tony babbles, pulling off his goggles and starting to get up.

Bruce pushes him back into his chair. "Tony."

"Bruce," Tony replies snidely.

Bruce sighs. "Look, I don't want to be here just as bad as you."

Tony gives him his best shit-eating grin. "You have no idea how much I don't want to be here right now."

"I can guess," Bruce says. "Now shut up and go talk to Steve."

Tony stares at him. "That's your talk? 'go talk to Steve?' That is the most horrible, piss-poor t-"

"I have absolutely no idea what to say to you," Bruce says. "Well, I do, but I think if I start talking about your feelings you will honestly clock me over the head with that soldering iron and make a break for it, Hulk be damned."

"I'm considering it," Tony nods.

"So," Bruce says. "Go. And talk. To Steve."

"About what?"

Bruce holds up his hands in a  _who-knows_  gesture. "Guess! Maybe about the unbearable UST? Maybe about the fact that you two are both emotionally crippled? Maybe if you two would stop fucking around and just get together already, you'd both be much happ-"

"Bruce," A voice says from the door, and they both turn to find Natasha.

Bruce sighs and lets his hands flop down. "Sorry. No progress. He's an idiot."

"They're both idiots," Natasha agrees. 

Tony says, "I am very, very confused."

-

Steve sits in the kitchen for a while, staring at the light reflecting off of the glasses dangling from the shelf- he's always loved it, the way they hang off the hooks and scatter the sun across the bench.

He tries to just focus on that, and thinks about sketching it, but he's never really been good at drawing light alterations. He drives his mind into it, thinking of the weight of the pencil between his fingers- of charcoal, he loves using charcoal.

He even goes up to his room and gets his sketchbook, and is rooting around for a pencil when he bangs his head on the desk.

"Damn it," He swears under his breath, and the pain fades almost immediately. 

He sees a pencil, and reaches for it before he realizes that he still sucks at drawing light alterations so he'd just end up pissed off anyway, and if he starts drawing, he'll end up staring at a sketch of Tony's face again, and he'll stare at it for too long.

-

Okay, so Tony thinks about it a lot.

Not sex- well, not  _just_  sex, of course he thinks about having sex with Steve, how can anyone  _not_ \- but an actual  _relationship_ , which screams warning signs, because he's Tony Stark, and- no, that's enough of a reason, actually.

And the fact that it's so obvious that Bruce and Tash know rings the warning bells, too. Tony thought he was concealing it well enough- hell, he barely lets himself think about it, so other people shouldn't be drawing the same conclusion.

So, in the bonda fide Tony Stark way, he decides to make a monumentally dumb idea and goes up to talk to Steve.

For eighteen minutes, he stands in front of his room, walking forwards and backwards and just standing there, almost vibrating.

"Come on," he growls. "Be a man. Go inside and- and- what, stick my tongue down his throat? Declare my undying love? Oh, god, I'm turning into a Nicholas Sparks fi-"

Tony stops abruptly as the door opens and Steve walks right into him.

Steve yelps, and reaches out and steadies him. "Tony!"

"Steve," Tony remarks, and it comes out a bit shakily.

"I-" Steve is blushing. Why is he blushing? "I was just coming to talk to you."

Tony starts saying, "Yeah, same," when it hits him: Bruce had said 'no progress' to Natasha, which meant they were supposed to be making progress on something, that something being Tony and something  _else_ , and Natasha's comment, 'they're both idiots,'  _both_  meaning  _plural_ , meaning more than one, meaning Tony and _someone else_ , that someone being encouraged to talk to Tony, which-

Tony's pretty sure his expression would have made him laugh if he saw it, but both expression and train of thought were promptly cut off by an explosion knocking them both into the wall.

Of fucking  _course_.

"As- assemble," Steve coughs, and then, shouting, "AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!"

He grabs Tony, hoists him up, and Tony lets him, saying, "I'm fine, I'm fine, I need the suit-"

Steve says, "Yeah, go-" and ducks back inside his room to grab his shield.

Tony sees  _Steve_  merge into  _Cap_ and clicks the button at the edge of the arc reactor, hearing the whirring coming from his workshop which meant that the suit was now rushing towards him.

He holds out his arms, straightens his legs, and the suit locks on and wraps around him.

Thor booms, "WHO DARES-" and gets hit in the face by a piece of wall thrown by a doombot.

"Hawkeye, on the roof," Cap says as he emerges from his room, cowl shoved over his head and arm in the straps of his shield.

Hawkeye says, "Aye aye, boss," and motions to Tony. He opens his mouth to add something, but Tony says, "Shut up, I won't make any Legolas jokes."

Hawkeye grins and slings his quiver around his shoulder. "Up and at 'em."

Tony pulls the finger at him -hard in the suit, but not impossible- and say, "Yes, sir, Hawkeye sir," and grabs him before flying up and out, dropping Hawkeye over the general vicinity of the roof and then blasting the living shit out of three Doombots at once.

He hears Black Widow yell, "Seriously?! I was going to the fucking  _spa_  today- Thor, on your right-"

"You foul, loathsome creatures," Thor roars, whirling Mjholnir. "Attacking our home with your primitive bombs an-"

"Doctor Doom is an ass, and next time he's dangling over a whirlpool I am just letting him fall into it," Tony says flatly, and he hears Cap huff out a laugh over the comm.

"What- the fuck- is the purpose- of this attack?" Clint calls, his words punctuated by arrows flying into Doombot's eyes.

"To piss us off?" Tony guesses, saving a guy from getting crushed by the 'V' that is falling off the Avenger Tower- 'Aengers Tower,' now.

"Fuuuuck," Tony groans, the weight of the 'V' almost too much to fly with, and throws it at a doombot.

He sees Cap's mouth open to say ' _language_ ,' before getting otherwise occupied with a doombot diving at him, and grins to himself.

"Iron Man, top left," Black Widow yells, and Tony looks up just in time to dodge the doombot and then blast it with a repulsor. 

Cap yells into the comm, "How many?"

"Fuck, I don't know," Tony yells. "Lots. More than last time."

"Helpful," Cap yells back.

Tony drags Thor out of the way of a flying lamppost, and drops him onto the sidewalk.

"Thank you, Man of Iron," Thor yells, swinging Mjholnir at an oncoming doombot and almost hitting a civilian.

"Don't mention it," Tony says back. 

Suddenly, Cap is in front of him, barely an inch away, and Tony's mind reels to a stop, and Steve's hands are on his chest.

Tony finally finds his brain and gasps, "Jeez, Cap, give a guy some space."

Cap doesn't answer. He opens his mouth like he's going to speak, but it gets stuck in his throat.

Tony's faltering smile continues to falter, and then dissolves completely.

He looks down, and  _god, no, Steve, you idiot._

It would've gone through the armour, he knows that, so  _of course_  it would have got through Cap's suit, so  _of course_  Steve would have jumped in front of him, the  _bastard_ , but Tony's brain barely registers it, because there's a pole poking through Steve's gut.

Steve just-  _crumples_ , and Tony's hand go to grip the front of his suit, oblivious to Black Widow shouting, or things bursting into flames around them, and Steve is on his knees, and his eyes are drooping shut and there is blood running from the corner of his mouth.

Tony says, "Steve."


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Tony sees when he switches on the shitty hospital TV is a news reporter standing in front of the Avengers Tower saying, “-egret to say to you that Captain America has, in fact, passed away.”

“I don’t know about you guys,” Clint says, “but Steve, you are the liveliest corpse I have ever seen. Except for, y’know, that one time.”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” Steve says flatly. “Where  _do_  they get their facts, anyway?”

Clint raises his hand. “Oooh, I know that one! It’s from  _‘Bullshit Inc_.’ Last week, they said I was pregnant.”

“You mean they said you got someone-“

“No, I mean me.”

“Oh.”

“They said I was born Antonia Stark.” Tony props his elbow up on Steve’s hospital bed. “I don’t even have an A-cup. Paparazzi say anything to get cash, you know that, Cap.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve says. “But I think that some things would appeal to their basic humanity, like reporting someone to have died before finding out if he actually is or not.”

Natasha crosses her legs. “The rest of the news channels are reporting you alive, for now, so there’s that.”

Steve smiles wearily, sitting up further. “Yay. Does th-” he winces, inhaling sharply.

Tony most definitely doesn’t stiffen. “You okay?”

Steve fixes him with an exasperated glare. “For the tenth time, Tony, I am _fine_. Serum, remember? I’ll be out of here within a week.”

“Mmm,” Tony says. “You wouldn’t even be  _in_  here if you weren’t a complete and total idiot.”

“You’re  _welcome_ ,” Steve huffs. 

Tony waves a hand. “I’d have been fine.”

“ _Suuuure._ ” Steve rolls his eyes. “You would have been fine with the huge hole in your stomach. And how would you pull that off, exactly?”

Tony grins at him. “Come  _on._  I’m Tony Stark.”

Beside him, Thor frowns. “Have you ever noticed, Man of Iron, that you say that in the same tone that Chuck Bass says it in Gossip Girl?”

Natasha starts giggling and then slaps a hand over her mouth when everyone starts staring.

“The alien-slash-god from another dimension watches Gossip Girl,” Bruce says. “Huh.”

Steve laughs, bubbly and toothy, and Tony feels a jerk in his navel.

-

When Tony gets back to his room- not  _his_  room, the room that the hospital had given him because the Avengers had all opted to stay overnight- his knees finally give out and he collapses against the bedpost.

He lets it wash over him-  _relief_ , overwhelming relief, after the worry that had strangled him for almost an hour while he had held Steve up, while Steve’s eyes had slipped closed, while he had gone through surgery.

When the doctor had come out and said, “He’s stable. Thank god for the serum, he would’ve bled out otherwise. H-“

Tony hadn’t heard anything else over the roaring rush of _thank fucking god_ crashing in his ears. 

He shoves a hand through his hair, before realizing that he still has streaks of grease all over his wrist from this morning, and it’s now smeared all over his forehead.

He laughs, and keeps laughing, and fuck, Steve’s  _okay_ , and they’re going to live to fight another day, or whatever, and he’s laughing and he’s  _happy_  and his ribs are bruised so it hurts like a bitch and  _Steve’s okay_.

-

True to Steve’s predictions, he gets released a five and a half days later.

127 hours, actually (no, Tony’s not counting and screw you very much), and Steve thinks he should have near-death experiences more often. 

Natasha’s hugged him (it lasted less than a second and Steve thinks she might have ripped his stitches a bit), Thor has hugged him (it lasted over ten seconds and  _definitely_  ripped his stitches), Bruce had given him a regular hug, and Clint had done a sort-of-hugging-thing as he passed him, and Steve thinks it counts. 

Tony hasn’t hugged him, but he remembers the pole going through him- how Tony’s smile had ticked and then stopped, how he had dropped to his knees with him, held him up, how he had said his name in that begging, broken tone as he had lost conciousness.

He remembers sagging against him, and thinking that dying’s not as bad as he thought it would be.

But mostly, how Tony had said his name, like-

“Cap? Earth to Steve?”

“What?” Steve blinks, and Clint is waving a hand in front of his face.

“Dude,” Clint says. “Time to go. Get pretty for the cameras.”

“He’ll never be as pretty as you, Clint,” Natasha says beside him. “Cap, do you want to leave in your uniform or in civvie clothes?”

“Uh,” Steve says. “I’d actually prefer to avoid the paparazzi entirely, but-“

“Could be arranged if you ask me real nice,” Tony says, strolling in with his best-selling grin. “I could fly you out the back door.”

“ _God_ , yes,” Steve says, maybe a bit too loud, and blushes slightly.

Tony doesn’t notice, or if he does, he pretends not to. “Awesome. You guys go keep everyone at bay, and I’ll sneak Cap out the back.”

Bruce opens the door. “Guys? What are we-“

Natasha sighs. “We’re making sure the boneheads outside don’t notice Stark’s flying Cap home.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Oh, goody.”

“Just stick Bruce out there,” Clint says. “They’ll all be too afraid he’ll Hulk out. Or we could get him to  _actually_  Hulk out, that would make a great distrac-“

“Ignore him,” Steve says. “Tony, it’d be great if you flew me out.”

“Damn straight it would,” Tony says. “Coming?”

-

The flight is a short one- less than five minutes, and Steve spends it getting his fingers and toes numb from the wind. 

Tony asks if he’s still alive three times, and Steve reminds him:  _‘serum, Tony, it barely even stings.’_

Other than that, it’s a considerably quiet trip. It’s been drizzling all day- it’s not now, but Steve can feel the moisture on his skin as they fly.

He hasn’t done this a lot- he’s flown on Tony’s back a total of five times, and three of those have been in battle where Tony was either saving him from something or dropping him on something. 

The other two- well, the first was mostly out of curiosity, because Tony had said that flying just for the hell of it is different than flying for your life, and Steve had asked what it was like. Tony had raised his eyebrows at him, and had joked, “Want to find out?”

Steve had said, “Well, yeah,” and Tony had looked surprised. “Uh,” he had said. “You free now?”

It had been blazingly hot that day, Steve remembers. He had been worried that he was sweating all over the suit, but Tony had just laughed and said that he didn’t mind.

When they land, it’s still quiet and sort of awkward and it’s getting dark.

Steve waits until Tony deactivates the armour and it rolls off of his body.

“Uh,” Steve says. “Thanks. For flying me.”

Tony smiles, but there’s something in it that bothers Steve. “No problem. When do you think the others will be back?”

Steve shrugs. “Don’t know. They said around half an hour.”

“Cool,” Tony says, turning to the door, but Steve bursts out: “Wait.”

Tony turns back almost casually, though Steve is sure the tone he had just used was a bit heavy. “Yeah, Cap?”

Steve almost chickens out, but blurts, “What were you going to tell me before the doombots attacked?”

Tony’s shoulders go rigid for a split second. It’s brief, but it’s there, and Steve notices it like a punch. 

Tony raises his hand to rub at the back of his ear. “Hmm? Oh, something about, uh. The schematics for your new outfit. The design was sort of-“

“Tony,” Steve says, and steps forward, watching how Tony rocks back slightly.

Tony’s looking at the ground now. “Yeah, Cap?”

Steve takes another step forward and Tony just about curls in on himself.

Steve swallows, and almost just says ‘never mind,’ but he’s already this far, so- “I could’ve died, you know.”

Tony, if possible, shrinks into his shoulder even more. “I know. I’m sorry-“

“It’s not your fault,” Steve says. “I didn’t mean it like- that.”

Tony smiles feebly. “And you keep telling me to stop being so self-sacrificing.”

Steve tries to laugh, but it comes out dry. “You  _are_  too self-sacrificing.”

Tony says, “And who’s the guy who I just flew home from almost dying from getting a pole through his intestines?”

Steve smiles, but it’s short-lived. 

There’s a pause, and Steve watches Tony’s tongue wet his lips.

They speak at the same time:

“Tony, I-“

“Steve-“

They both stop, and Steve swallows. “You go first.”

Tony twists his fingers together, looking anywhere but Steve. “Come on, do we- do we really have to do this? Can’t we just-“

Steve takes another step forwards, and this time Tony actually takes a step back. 

Steve leans back apologetically. “I don’t think so. Not after everything.”

“Everything? You mean the you-nearly-dying thing? Steve, that happens, like, every second week-“

“I want this,” Steve says in a rush. “I do. And I know you do, too, and we shouldn’t keep ignoring this because we’re scared, or-“

Tony says, “Damnit, Steve, you can’t just-” and then he’s storming forwards, getting in Steve’s space, gripping his hands in Steve’s shirt.

Suddenly, it’s like he loses it. His hands loosen, and he just sort of- wilts, and he says softly, “Fuck, I can’t- you deserve- Jesus Christ, we-“

Steve just waits, and Tony finally looks at him. “Steve,” he says helplessly.

Steve remembers how he had said it while he was bleeding out all over his hands.

“Steve,” Tony says again, and it’s almost a croak, like he’s drowning, like he’s lost.

Steve feels his heart beating in his throat, and he raises his hand and runs his thumb along Tony’s jawline, like Tony had done that day at the cemetery.

Tony shivers, and Steve tilts his head up and presses his mouth gently to his.

Their mouths move together carefully, tongues brushing, and Tony’s hands shift to cup the back of Steve’s neck, leaving goosebumps.

They stay like that for a while, and Steve feels lightheaded, like galaxies are spilling in his chest as he’s kissing Tony. After a few minutes, they break apart, and it’s not weird, or awkward, it’s normal, and they’re both grinning.

“Hey, Steve.” Tony rubs his fingertips over the back of Steve’s neck.

Steve can’t stop grinning, as he leans their foreheads together, and it’s like something clicking into place. “Hey, Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINISHED. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I THOUGHT IT WAS FINISHED BUT APPARENTLY NOT OOPS

It almost seems too easy, how they both slip into place next to each other.

Tony and Steve, Cap and Iron Man, Stark and Rogers- the media is going mental, one guy actually broke his arm via getting hit by a bus trying to get a picture of them kissing on the sidewalk.

At this point, Steve’s just still glad he  _can_.

Kiss Tony on the sidewalk, he means.

And not just legally (although that is a huge bonus, and quite frankly Steve is disappointed that 70 years in the future gay marriage isn’t legal everywhere), but that Tony lets him curl his fingers in his hair, lets him run his hands to slot behind his neck, lets him tip his head back and kiss him softly, lets him smile against his lips.

Okay, the reporter getting hit by the bus was kind of a mood-killer, but yeah.

-

The rest of the team finds out when Steve drops a kiss on Tony’s shoulder the morning after- well, they think of it as ‘the night Steve got out of the hospital after being a self-sacrificing bastard as per usual,’ but Steve thinks of it as ‘his first kiss with Tony.’

His first kiss out of many kisses, by the way. It’s been three weeks and he’s yet to go without a few hours without kissing Tony, including sleeping- he always seems to wake up every once in a while and peck him on the cheek, or end up in an early-morning make-out session, since they’ve both sort-of-kind-of started sleeping in Steve’s bed, or on the cot in Tony’s workshop.

Anyway, Steve had kissed Tony on the shoulder, on that tiny freckle that he feels too much affection towards, and Tony had stiffened slightly and glanced around at everyone before remarking, “And yep, they’re all staring. Hi, guys.”

Natasha had taken a nonchalant bite out of her toast- Steve has yet to meet someone other than her that can eat toast nonchalantly- and had said, “And it only took a near-death experience. Nice, guys. Not emotionally crippled at all.”

Steve had grinned. “I prefer emotionally stunted, thank you, Tash.”

“I am guessing it’d be crude and vulgar,” Thor had said, “To ask my fellow brethren to pay up at this point in time?”

“Yep,” Clint had stretched in his chair and dangled one arm off the side of it. “That, and I’m currently broke.”

Steve had blinked at him for a few seconds before getting it, but Tony had already started saying: “I despise each and every one of you.”

Bruce had looked at him from over the newspaper- he’s the only one who ever reads it. “Even Steve?”

“Especially Steve,” Tony had said flatly. “Despise and loathe him to the depths of my cold, black soul.”

Steve had turned him around and kissed him quiet.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he had said when he had pulled back, and Tony had looked at him with those too-soft eyes and that full, brimming smile that Steve could live for decades and never grow tired of seeing.

-

When they finish season 2 of ‘ _Dollhouse_ ,’ Steve feels kind of at a loss.

“Joss Whedon’s shows keep getting cancelled,” Tony says, slouching down next to him. “Seriously. I think he pissed Fox off about something and they’re holding a grudge.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at the blank screen. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Mmm,” Tony says. “So, did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Dollhouse.”

“Oh. Yeah, it was good. Not as good as Firefly, but-”

“Kind of hard to top Firefly,” Tony agrees, and laughs quietly.

He’s been doing that a lot- laughing for no reason. It just seems to bubble up- one moment they’re talking, or watching TV, or just not even doing anything, and Tony will get this contented look on his face and let out a short chuckle.

Steve likes to think that he’s a direct cause of it.

“ _Die Hard_  is on,” Clint announces, flouncing into the lounge and flopping down next to the both of them. “Flip to channel 3.”

“Anything for you, Mr. Barton,” JARVIS simpers, and Clint’s eyebrows shoot up as the TV suddenly shows Bruce Willis shooting the shit out of someone.

“Uh,” he says. “Thank you?”

Tony looks up at the ceiling. “JARVIS? What the hell was that?”

Faux-innocently, JARVIS says, “What was what, sir?”

“That-” Tony waves his hand at the TV. “thing. The obeying-Clint-thing.”

“Oh, that,” JARVIS says. “I am allowed to obey other people’s orders, am I not, sir?”

“Yeah,” Clint says, “But mostly you just like to piss us off and make us feel dumb with your accent. No offence, Tony.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “None taken.”

Bruce, who has just walked in, frowns. “Who’s offending Tony?”

“Me,” Clint raises his hand. “I was dissing his AI. Sorry, JARVIS, my man.”

“While I disagree with your wording of me as a ‘man,” JARVIS deadpans, “I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Barton.”

“Ooooo-kay,” Bruce says. “Right. Are we watching  _Die Hard_?”

“Yeah, apparently,” Steve says.

Tony raises his hand to his ear and flips his comm on. “Avengers Assemble.”

It takes precisely six seconds for Natasha and Thor to come pounding in, Mjolnir hefted in Thor’s enormous hand.

Thor bellows, “What enemy threatens-”

“Did you just Assemble us for a movie night?” Natasha lowers her gun. “Again?”

Tony slings an arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Maybe?”

Natasha sighs, pained. “Fine. But you need to stop doing that. One day I’m going to assume it’s a false alarm, and I’ll end up letting half of New York destroyed by Doombots because I think I’m just missing out on _‘What’s Your Number_.’”

Tony bites back a grin. “Duly noted.”

-

It’s like going crazy.

Tony’s hands are on his hips, his lips are in his hair, and he’s on top of him, chest to chest, pushing into him in slow, shuddering thrusts.

Steve is unable to do anything but push back weakly, because it’s so _good_ , and his head has fallen back onto the pillow and he’s shaking, sweat rolling down his neck as Tony fucks him carefully.

It’s like burning up; Tony’s hands like flames, consuming him, leaving burns over his skin that Tony will fit his mouth over later in tender bursts.

Steve breathes, “ _Tony_ ,” and then again, slightly more urgently, and Tony pulls back slightly to check if he’s in pain.

Instead, he’s met with Steve’s slack expression: blissed out, almost awed, and as they lock eyes, Steve manages to get a hand around his head and pull him down, crushing their mouths together in slick, sloppy kisses.

Steve’s breath hitches as Tony hits the spot inside him that makes his vision almost white-out in pleasure, and fuck, how the hell has he not _come_  yet-

Tony’s inside him, and it feels like nothing he’s ever experienced, and it’s the best fucking thing in the world and he’d let the world fold into itself if he could just stay like this forever because it’s  _Tony_ , who kisses like molasses and grease stains, who stays awake until he’s literally swaying, whose laugh makes him start laughing, who stays up too late and goes to bed too late, who’s a warm weight after a nightmare, who he’s so stupidly in love with and wouldn’t have it any other way.

 He’s babbling, he realizes, he’s whimpering into Tony’s neck: “Jesus, Tony, god, it feels- oh, my god, it feels-”

It’s like dying, it’s like being lit up from the inside out, and Steve can’t think of a better way to burn.

“Steve,” Tony says, the intensity of it flaring in his stomach, and Steve cries out into his neck, his hands digging into Tony’s hair, his legs going stiff around Tony’s waist, and comes.

-

“Are you happy?”

Steve blinks. “Um. What?”

Natasha cocks an eyebrow at him. “Something tells me that somehow, your super-soldier hearing and the fact that I am less than two feet away from you didn’t make you miss what I just said.”

“Um,” Steve says again. “No, I heard. I just- yeah, I’m happy. Why?”

Natasha smiles, and Steve’s been seeing a lot of those out of her lately. “Just checking. Already knew, anyway. It’s kind of obvious. I just wanted to hear you say it. No-one deserves it more than you, Cap. I’m glad you and Stark finally got your heads out of your asses.”

“And put something else in,” Clint calls from the lounge.

“Fuck you, Clint, I was having a moment,” Natasha yells back.

Steve tries not to smile, and fails. “Nice. Why is everyone up?”

Bruce says, “We thought we’d have a Buffy re-watch marathon. Ow,” he adds as he touches the recently-microwaved popcorn bowl too early.

Tony walks into the kitchen, and blinks. “What the hell? It’s, like, 2 in the morning, why is-”

“Buffy marathon,” Steve prompts, slipping an arm around him and pressing his lips to his cheek.

Tony hums and leans into Steve. “Right.” He cranes his neck to look at the lounge, where Clint and Thor are arguing over which season to watch first. “Hey, you know that there’s a Buffy spinoff, right?”

Steve stares. “What.”

“Uh,” Tony says. “Yeah. ‘Angel.’ It ran for-”

“Lounge,” Steve says. “Now. Oh, my god, why did you not tell me earlier-”

“It didn’t occur to me!” Tony says, being dragged by Steve into the lounge and then tugged down onto the couch.

“Shhhh,” Steve says. “JARVIS?”

“The first episode, Captain?”

“Yes, please.”

“Kiss-ass,” Tony yells at the ceiling.

Steve grins and presses a kiss to his neck.

“Hey.” Clint frowns, popcorn halfway to his mouth. “I thought we were watching Buffy.”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glued to the screen. “Times change, get with the program. Steve, move your feet.”

Steve tucks his feet under his knees. “As you wish.”

Tony sort of looks at him sideways.

Steve’s mouth flickers. “Yes, I was quoting ‘ _The Princess Bride_.’”

Clint sniffs. “I’m so proud.”

Bruce nudges Tony in the ribs. “That makes you Princess Buttercup.”

“Hardey-har-har-har,” Tony says.

Steve huffs a laugh into Tony’s hair and glances around- Natasha’s on the opposite couch next to Clint, Bruce is wedged in between Tony and the arm of the couch, and Thor is sprawled over the floor, his head propped up on a pillow.

He leans into Tony and smiles to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here at my [tumblr.](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com)


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